Batman - Apocalypse
by ACE123380
Summary: The Apocalypse has begun. Of Gotham. The Talons, Brother Eye, and The Joker have taken Gotham, opened the doors for it to go to hell. The Bat Family is dead. Everyone except an injured and seasoned Batman, alongside his young daughter, Mysteria. This was written by me and a friend. We took turns writing chapters. Me, her, me, her, me, her etc. You get it. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

_**Batman - Apocalypse**_

_**Chapter 1: Prologue**_

_"Hope." A dream. A goal to strive towards. An ideal. Hope would, frequently to others, seem achievable. Men like Bruce Wayne brought up the people of Gotham with his words and, unknown to almost everyone, his wits and fists. Bruce Wayne has said "Tomorrow is just a dream away." But now, his words were as useless as the struggle fighting against the inevitable end. It was more painful to some than others though. Bruce, whom was the Batman, suffered the most. Not physically, but mentally. It was a scar, worse than any a knife or dagger could give you. And it had happened so fast. The Talons, Brother Eye... The Joker. The names of his enemies filled his mind with hatred towards them. It had started with The Talons. A strike on North Gotham was planned and executed late at night, a town attack, killing many. Almost like a terrorist attack. Brother Eye had begun to rise, releasing 7th stage robots built in S.T.A.R Labs by Brother Eye's "associate," Cyborg. Cyborg had been controlled, released a horrible force upon Gotham. But it was just beginning. _

_As things began to heat up, The Joker rose from the underbelly of everything, unleashing hell upon Gotham. A virus, that spread through Gotham so quickly, Bruce thought it has gone through the air. Almost a million people died in one week, inside the chaos that was Gotham. It had never been this bad. Not even when he had fought his best friends, who had been infected by a similar concoction. Damian and Barbara were the first to die. Trapped under a powerful structure and turned to ash like a piece of paper by Brother Eye's patrol drones. The rest, Bruce hadn't even known how they died. Just that they did. Jason, Selina, Tim, Cassandra, Stephanie, even Helena. It was a futile effort, trying to keep Gotham safe when under the circumstances, three groups of terrorists held parts of Gotham. Finally, everything came crashing down. In an attack on Wayne Manor, orchestrated by the Joker, missiles had been fired into Wayne Manor, destroying his father's built house. But it didn't matter. The projectile had taken something else... something more important. The explosion killed Alfred and Richard, cooking them in a bath of fire. It had injured Samantha, and Bruce watched in horror. She was stuck, underneath the bottom of the staircase, which has fell on her as she coughed in the smoke. He couldn't do anything. For once in his damned life, The Batman could do nothing._

_"Go... now!" Sam's words had been exactly, through coughs and a nearly collapsed windpipe. Grabbing his daughter Mysteria, he rushed out, plunging the two of them into the cave below, grabbing what they could frantically, while he clawing through the rock of the cave angered like a wild animal. He went deep, through corridors until he soon reached the sewers, tattered and scarred on the wet, filthy surface of the narrow pathway. Even the sewer had been destroyed._

_Nobody had won. Not Batman, not the Talons, not Brother Eye, or The Joker. There was no winning score, nothing to be on top. Even though the Bat's enemies held Gotham... it didn't matter. Because there was nothing left to hold. Gotham was an apocalypse of a place. Hell. Hell with a war raging above between Talons and robots and zombie-like creatures, as the fires consuming everything. _

_To Bruce, to Batman, there was no war. The war was over. And everyone had lost._


	2. Chapter 2: Dark Knight and the Princess

_**Batman - Apocalypse**_

_**Chapter 2: Dark Knight and the Princess**_

_It was both terrifying and pleasantly familiar, stealthily making her way through the pitch darkness. Her tattered, black cape covered her nose and mouth in a futile attempt to block out the scent of the sewer: dirt, waste, and decay. It was the tainted blood of Gotham City's remains, and they were navigating the arteries. Habitually, she had tried to switch to detective vision, immediately recalling that it was linked to the Batcomputer, which had been down since the manor was destroyed. Most of the Batcave had been damaged, as well. They grabbed what they could: their suits and utility belts, nothing more, and (to which she had thanked God) nothing less. It was all an open wound, still fresh, still bleeding- as if a dagger had been jammed between her ribs._

_She kept a black-gloved hand on the wall, her fingertips gently scaling the mold-glazed granite as she paced behind Batman. She had stumbled on the memory cloth that trailed behind him, promptly taking it by the corner in her left hand. Despite the rips and tears, it still had its length. Keeping within inches of him, she eventually locked her arm with his; the Dark Knight and the princess, clad in her ball gown made of body armor. That, too, was pleasantly familiar. Mysteria could recall the times that she had attended charity balls and events with Bruce as a girl, having hugged his right arm and followed his lead when they made their entrance or departure. Years ago, when the world- their world -hadn't been swallowed whole by everything they waged warehouse against. He was conscious that the grip had tightened, in fury and morose trepidation. Misty was too shaken to speak. Bruce knew, and knew well, for even at her lowest points, she typically spoke without hesitation. With conviction, even. For now, however, they mourned in silence, continuing on through the Gotham sewer._

_Mysteria's voice broke the silence as a rough, single-word question that had too many answers for a definite response: "Why?" Bruce stopped, contemplating it for a moment._

_There wasn't a sentence he could string together that could do her any justice. There just wasn't. "I don't know, Misty." He kept her as close to his side as the space allowed, adding, "I don't-" She silenced her father with a brief little "Shh." He didn't need to answer. He didn't want to speak any more than she did, and she was more than aware. With a shaky sigh, Misty rested her forehead against Bruce's upper arm, shutting her eyes behind her mask. Everything had simply crumbled from underneath their feet, opening a pit of hell in which they were just two bats flying through. They could beat their wings and gnash their fangs, but it was up for debate as to whether or not they would make it anywhere._

_All of the tears that Misty had fought back since this nightmare was unleashed had finally cracked her open, like an eggshell against a mixing bowl. Bruce, in turn, made sure that there was room on the narrow walkway- enough to permit a protective embrace, so he might at least muffle her cries, if quiet them at all. He didn't murmur a single word; language served no purpose for the time being. With a careful palm, he smoothed down her damp, tangled hair, keeping his hand on the back of her head._

_"I-I'm sorry, I t-tried to s-save-" Misty attempted to choke out. She shook violently, her breaths ragged and unsteady._

_"Don't talk," Bruce directed gently. Hell, they had both tried to do what they could, but none of it had been nearly enough. In a matter of weeks, they had lost every person they had ever considered family. In the past ninety minutes, Mysteria watched her stepmother essentially crushed, her older brother die, and her home destroyed. She held it together as long as he shattered spirit would allow._

_**"Mysteria, run. Now!" Dick met her panicked blue gaze, his own eyes wide with alarm as he shouted the order. She nearly dared to object, stopping abruptly as he grabbed her shoulders and held her in a rib-cracking highway lasted a short two seconds.**_

_**"Please, just come with me-"**_

_**"No. I'm going to try and find Alfred. I'll meet you if I can." He doubted that he would find the butler among the flames, but he had to look. He knew that it was curtains' call for himself. It was okay. But Misty had to make it. She was the only one left. If Bruce could get her and get off the grounds, there was a chance. That much, he was certain of. Hurriedly, he kissed the top of her head, and said with as much composure as he could, "I'll see you when it's over, Sis. Go. NOW!" Richard pushed her in the opposite direction, dashing down the hall.**_

_**She took off in a sprint, not sticking around to witness the young man be engulfed by smoky flames, not daring to think of what he had meant. She wouldn't forget, though- it was stashed in her mind for a later time.**_

_Mysteria had complied with herself; she hadn't forgotten. She replayed the event in her mind, and that two second defensively like an eternity. "I'll see you when it's over," he had said. When it was all over, and her heart had ceased to beat, she'd see her brother again. The way things stood presently, she wasn't convinced that her wait time would be that long._


	3. Chapter 3: The Sewers

_**Batman – Apocalypse**_

_**Chapter 3: The Sewers**_

_The sewers weren't his favorite place to be. Nor a place he would even go, if not necessary. Despite the image he held with the rest of the family, Batman, for once, had no idea what to do or where to go. On top of the fact that the man was in the sewers, a place where he'd normally expect an attack from Killer Croc, or some other sort of trouble. If the lack of air and water down here didn't kill him, someone else would likely do the deed. Lincoln, Brother Eye, The Joker. _

_A scream was heard behind him. Familiar, and he knew it was that of his daughter, whom was no longer behind him. _

_"Mystreria...? Mysteria?!" He shouted. The voice simply echoed. His ears caught little sounds. Drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip... Splash... Tiny whimpering. And then... a roar. The World's Greatest Detective had knowingly walked into the lair of Waylon Jones, Killer Croc._

_A green scaled hand grabbed the Batman roughly, clutching his throat in a death-grip and holding the Dark Knight in the air. Sharp, reptile-like claws dug into The Bat's cowl, causing his white eyes to narrow in anger and shock. Struggle was the body's function, and so tough, armored arms struck out, flailing at the reptilian enemy. _

_"I'm feeling... hungry." Croc whispered, menacingly. His two hands closed in on the Batman's head, pulling him close. The Batman's hands lay at his belt, his fingers curling up in some sort of grabbing fist. _

_"Today's not a good day to push me, Waylon." He simply said, as if being eaten was not even a possibility. Which to him, it wasn't. A gas-like toxin flew out from the Batman's hand, surrounding Croc's aggressive skin and entering every part of him. Suffocating him, or so the victim thought. Fear. It was the Bat's intention to provide fear to everyone. Him included. _

_The Bat noticed Blackeagle on the floor, laying with blood near her. She had been in Croc's hand, before Croc had attempted to eat Batman. But he didn't care. Not now._

_"Where's the TYGER storage compartment? Talk, before the toxin does its purpose." He said, angrily, while he stood above the coughing reptile. "NOW." Like the figure of the night he was, this was his purpose. Croc was an obstacle, a fence, a damned gate in the way of his vengeance. The deaths around him had weighed on the Knight, and he had to stop himself before he killed Croc with his bare hands. _

_As if to stop him, his Justice League communicator signaled. No direct message, but a distress call. A call for help._


	4. Chapter 4: Reptillian Contribution

_**Batman - Apocalypse**_

_**Chapter 4: Reptilian Contribution**_

"_Where is the TYGER storage compartment?"_

_She groaned, pulling herself up from the grimy concrete, looking over her left shoulder to lay eyes upon a grounded Killer Croc, and the dark silhouette of her father. _

"_Now," Batman hissed angrily, pinning Jones down with his foot. Blackeagle, despite her brief blackout, shook off the dizziness, gingerly making her way toward the two, her eyes narrowing. She didn't pay attention to the slice on her arm, or the blood that plastered her suit to her skin. Just as Batman was about to unleash a flurry of blows upon the Croc, a familiar alarm sounded. Everything, for a brief moment, stopped. He nodded to her to handle the rest of the interrogation, as he stepped to the side to take a look. Waylon didn't move. Whatever Bruce had used was extremely effective, and deep down, she was jealous that she didn't have any of the chemical on hand. She took a knee roughly a foot away from him, leaning in to lock masked eyes on his own reptilian pair._

"_Talk, Jones. Where is the TYGER storage compartment?" Blackeagle said with a snarl._

_Croc laughed weakly, a nasty half-smile crossing his face. "Why should I tell you, girl?" Without a second for her to think, he lurched forward, snapping his jaws only inches from Misty's face. Barely flinching, she swept a powerful kick against the top of his head, slamming his skull against the ground with a heavy thud. From her belt, she pulled out some explosive gel, generously coating his leg with it._

"_Do you know what that is?" she asked darkly. Waylon snarled in frustration, glancing from his leg to the black-clad woman before him. She continued, "Explosive gel. I tweaked it to blow through doors that a SWAT team couldn't break through. Tell me the location, and I won't blast your leg apart." Not a single, rough word came from the Croc, and without any rise or fall in her tone, she stated (somewhat disbelievingly), _

"_You really don't believe me." Mysteria was quite merciful on most occasions, even to the most cut-throat criminals in Gotham City, and her reputation glittered because of it. She also was underestimated for the very same reason. She would retake Gotham by any means necessary, and she'd start by making an example of the sewer waste at her feet. She had given him several seconds to talk, but when her mental clock hit seven ticks, she detonated the gel, stepping back and raising her cape to shield herself from the bloody, scaly debris._

_The Blackeagle hadn't heard a more sickening cry in her entire life. It echoed like rolling thunder through the sewer, leaving Batman to slowly turn and scrutinize the scene in silence. Croc had left scratch marks on the area around him, his teeth clenched tightly in agonized pain. _

"_It hurt, didn't it?" Misty asked, walking around him. "Tell me the location of the TYGER storage compartment." She had been waiting years to injure one of them so severely. It was almost therapeutic, in the most unsettling way. "…Now, or you'll lose the other leg."_

"_A-Arkham Asylum… you d-damn little—" She slammed her foot down on the remains of his fractured leg, watching as he let out a scream. Without another word, she picked up her cape, stepping over his defeated form, and joining Batman about twenty feet down the tunnel. Her father frowned, his expression laced with both suspicion for an outside reason, one she had yet to be notified of, and the slightest hint of disappointment. She took the lead, trying to put as much distance between herself and Croc as she could. What was she even thinking!? She didn't want to dedicate another thought to the fact that she had severely crippled her enemy with ruthless, even barbaric means. She was moving quickly, trying to keep it from snapping her like a toothpick. All of her shock, her anger, it was corroding her— eating through her resolve with little restraint, and it had been colorfully displayed._

"_TYGER is working out of Arkham," Blackeagle reported, not making eye contact. "Was that alert what I think—"_

"_The Justice League," Batman replied quietly. "It wasn't an alert. It was a distress signal. The coordinates are southwest Gotham; around Foundry Square, if not in it."_

"_And the sender?" Mysteria asked, locking eyes with him._

"_Unidentified. It's probably best to look into this before TYGER." For once, he didn't sound sure of himself. She nodded in return, slowly coming to a stop and taking a look around. It was quiet, both in the tunnels and seemingly, on the street above. If she could acquire a light source, she could find an opening. A manhole, a drain, anything. An exit point. It was risky in some ways, but she kept two cigarette lighters in her utility belt. An oddity among the rest of her supplies, but useful in their way._

"_Step back," she told Bruce, flicking the tiny surrounding area into illumination. Her masked eyes surveyed the space, her mouth twitching into a scowl. A few seconds passed before Batman turned her toward the left side of the tunnel, gesturing for her to look up. There was a slight opening where runoff from the streets drained into the sewer, and if they could get the metal grate off, they'd be out. They took a moment to listen closely for anything that might be a threat. People, vehicles, or any selection of the garden variety of psychotics._

_Nothing._

_Batman searched his belt for the Batclaw, stepping up as close as he was able and aiming for the grate. With a "poom" similar to that of a grapple gun, the line stretched, the hook latching onto the iron. Misty got in close, taking hold of the taut cable and glancing to him. "Pull?"_

"_Pull," he confirmed. By himself, it would have taken Batman several seconds to disconnect the drain cover, but with the same force, along with Blackeagle's violent yank on the line, it was a mere count of three before their gate to Gotham was open once more. Bending down, he cupped his palms, allowing her to step into them and be boosted up to the pavement above before scrambling up afterward. Misty took a look around, trying to recognize the part of the city that they had surfaced into. It was barely recognizable—rubble and ash, and an overpowering aroma of death._

"_We aren't far from Foundry Square," Batman remarked, soundlessly analyzing details in the streets and buildings. His eyes followed Misty as she walked over to the corner of a nearby building on their right side, poking her head around the corner. What met their eyes was the light shine coming from large metal in the dark. Almost forming a sort of human. But Batman new better._

"_Victor." Batman calmly said. He knew the superhero Cyborg for a long time, working with him mainly in times in which there was something threatening a word, as Victor Stone was indeed a member of the Justice League. Batman, however, hardly expected the man to be in Gotham, and his hand lingered near his belt, while Mysteria stood calmly. _

_He finally said, "What are you doing in Gotham?"_

_Cyborg stood in the dark, almost wanting the dark shadows to mask his cybernetics. What came next wasn't nearly as subtle. _

"_I was needed… and I came to help a friend…." His hand pointed out at Batman, beginning to glow with a blue, intimidating glow. "I'll make it quick… Bruce." The last word of his was said with a familiar voice. That of the psychotic Brother Eye. But no one had time to dwell on it, and had barely caught it over the loud sound came from him._

_Blackeagle leapt backwards almost instantaneously as a small missile nearly decapitated her, flashing only inches from her face and practically bringing down the building to her left._

"_Oh, sh—" She scrambled back, subduing her panic with a furious stare. "Not real JLA," she stated. "C-can we even fight Cyborg!?"_


	5. Chapter 5: Shocking

_**Batman - Apocalypse**_

_**Chapter 5: Shocking**_

_The missile that had nearly decapitated Mysteria flew to the cement building behind her, resulting in an explosion that could be heard throughout the town. Brother Eye's robots would likely be there soon. But not Batman, nor Blackeagle, had time to dwell on that fact. They had a large, metal super-human charging at them and sending powerful, explosive projectiles at them, capable of destroying entire towers if charged for a while. Batman's arm went in front of Mysteria, pushing her back to evade behind cover from the incoming fire. _

_A missile hit a corner near where they hid, causing him to shield his daughter once more. _

_"Cyborg?!" He called out, loudly to him, with his deep and dark tone. What the hell is going on?!" His fist clenched, as the sound of loud bullets was heard nearby. Several flashes careened off of nearby metal poles and such, landing near Batman and Blackeagle several times. _

_"Dad, I'm okay. You don't need to-" Blackeagle began to say, but suddenly Batman caught a shard of glass coming towards her face. A result of a small mine planted by Cyborg, which had vibrations which has caused the large windows nearby to shatter loudly. She didn't like being her daddy's little girl, as she had grown up most of her life as his ward. His partner. His daughter. An older girl, alongside her strong father._

_Batarangs shot out from Batman's direction, hitting Cyborg aggressively at several spots on his cybernetics. _

_"Hold still, Batman!" Cyborg said, a robot-like voice coming from the metal man. His left hand had transformed into a mini canon, firing more and more near Batman. Batman simply looked to Mysteria, a look of little concern and worry. _

_He calmly whispered, "Distract him. I'll be right behind you." She nodded, and darted out to Victor Stone, sending a sharp projectile at Cyborg's face, leaving a cut mark._

_Angrily, Cyborg exclaimed in his intimidatingly loud voice: "You little b-... Huh, what the...?!" Electric shocks had suddenly began to consume his body. Mysteria looked to Batman. In his hand, he held a long tool, resembling a gun. But it was not one. It was an EMP, called a "Disruptor" by Mysteria, and Batman had used it to disable Cyborg. In pain, Cyborg fell down to the alleyway floor, grounded, and barely conscious._


	6. Chapter 6: Endurance

_Batman – Apocalypse_

_Chapter 6: Endurance_

_She skittered to a halt, sliding on one knee as if she were taking a dive for home plate. She watched Cyborg's heavy, metal body fall to the ground as she passed him, a cloud of dust rising around him upon impact. Misty stood up slowly, locking eyes with Bruce from roughly fifteen feet away. He shook his head, ordering her to remain where she was. He approached Victor Stone, still clutching the Disruptor in his hand. Pinning him down with one foot, Batman leaned in, forcing his former ally to meet the furious, white-eyed stare of what many considered to be the night itself. He brought down a heavy fist, knocking Cyborg's face aggressively._

"_What's going on? Who is making you do this?" He growled. His next action was a punch to his dysfunctional chest, which broke into what was essentially his control panel. The cybernetics were functioning— barely. Just enough for the Bat to open up a faltering, projected frame, and call off what appeared to be Stone's backup._

"_Blackeagle," he said, walking over to her side. She didn't look at him, but up toward the sky above them; although shrouded in a smoky haze, dusk had fallen upon Gotham City. "Come on, we need to—" Bruce stopped himself short, looking his daughter over with an apprehensive glance. He began to say "head to Arkham", his mind still attempting to compensate for the day's events by driving him to do everything he could in as little time possible. With one look at Misty, he stated, "We need to take a look at that arm. It looks like it's still bleeding." His tone wasn't low and commanding, as she expected it to be; it was composed, vigilant, and persuading, almost identical to the way he spoke when he had first met the disheveled little girl. When she took a moment for the words to register, he sighed ever so subtly, pulling her close, and firing his grapple gun onto the nearest rooftop. It seemed to have gotten her attention, as she pulled out her own line the instant her boots touched the ledge._

"_Sorry," Mysteria apologized quickly, avoiding the use of her right arm. She winced as her father grabbed her shoulder, barely lifting her chin to look him in the eye._

"_Listen to me. I want you to wait right here. I'm going to find somewhere that we can rest, and supplies so we can tend to our wounds." He paused for a moment, trying to read her. "Mysteria, I swear that I will be back before you know it. If anything happens to you while I'm gone, don't look for me."_

"_But—"_

"_I want you to get the hell out of there if you're in trouble. You're fast, and you're smart. Those are your weapons right now. Understood?" She nodded, quietly repeating the word "understood" before squeezing her father's hand tightly, gesturing for him to go. She watched him vanish into the shadows of the back alleys they once ruled. It seemed as if Park Row had overflown, pouring its contents upon the entirety of the city. Crime Alley's first true victim, along with its former inhabitant was all that the gloomy maze of concrete had left to lend its hope to._

_That was, for whichever hopeful souls remained._

"_Misty, wake up." The raven-haired sixteen year-old jolted at the sound of Bruce's voice, blinking several times to find that she was unmasked, her upper right arm was under stinging pressure, and she wasn't on a floor, roof, or street. Her pounding skull rested on a pillow, having curled up tightly on a squeaking bed, in a room she couldn't recognize. It was dark— like a power outage in the middle of the night. She groaned, looking to a cowl-less Batman, his expression alert, yet laced with hints of stale worry. Misty looked at her lower shoulder, gently running her fingers over fresh sutures._

"_D-did I pass out…?" she asked, massaging her temples._

"_Yes." He reached out, lightly brushing his fingertips against a bruise on the top of her head. In two hours, he had snagged meager medical supplies, and scoped out a small house that they could take refuge in, until they were both in halfway-decent standing. He had returned to find her unconscious, but fortunately, with no more harm than she'd already been dealt. _

"_You aren't concussed, thankfully." Misty forced herself into an upright position, throwing herself at Bruce with the force of an offensive tackle. She didn't make any effort to speak, wrapping her arms tightly around his back until her hands clasped together. "I came back and I thought you were dead," he told her. "You were completely still."_

"_Oh God, I'm sorry—"_

"_Shh. Don't worry, it's okay. You're alright, that's what matters to me right now." He combed his fingers through her tangled strands of black hair, finding solace in the opaque silence. At this point, Mysteria would have broken away from the embrace with whatever amount of force she felt necessary. This time, however, she had no intention of loosening her grip. She had deemed him as the solid, level ground she was trying to get her feet on._

"_I don't know why I lost consciousness like that… I didn't mean to scare you, I—" Misty stopped with a sigh. Bruce knew where she was going, what she was trying to say. "It's not a real weekend unless our hearts stop at least twice, right?" A phantom grin tugged at the corner of her mouth, attempting to brush off the past few hours._

"_Don't tell me you saw Paul Walker." Batman said with a slight sigh._

_She scoffed, rolling her eyes with disappointment. "Dammit. No." Standing up, she winced, stretching her arm to ensure that the stitches would hold if it came to an inevitable fight. Bruce stood with her, raising his hands. It was a routine she had practiced a majority of the eight years she had trained under him; primarily during winter patrols, where staying still wasn't an option. She exhaled, getting into a defensive stance, relying on her non-dominant arm. Misty drilled several quick blows against his palm, her teeth clenched. It was painful; not agonizing, but irritating. There was no blood, no splitting skin._

"_You're welcome," Bruce remarked, smirking ever so slightly. He pulled the cowl over his head, gathering his things, as Misty did the same. "We need to go to Arkham. We still have a few hours before the sun is up." She nodded, adjusting her sleeve and cape to cover her shoulders._

_"What about Talons? Or anyting else?" She seized her grapple gun once again, peeking out the window before pulling it open._

_"We'll deal with that when we have to." He murmured._

_She aimed toward the nearest roof, spreading her artificial wings, shrouded by the night, at the point in which its darkness was most oppressive._


	7. Chapter 7: Arkham

_**Batman – Apocalypse**_

_**Chapter 7: Arkham**_

_Gotham seemed so quiet now, in the night. What was normally filled with sounds of a crime, screams, cars, steps and walking, was now just silent. The blowing wind, against the ravaged streets and alleyways, the only motion that really was noticeable. While the little movements of Talons, and robots, and the cultists whom followed The Joker, the city was undoubtedly quiet. In a way, it was the Gotham Batman had always wanted, his dream. But this was no dream. It was a nightmare. A silent nightmare, only interrupted by small sounds of wind, and little movements in the bushes, full of dangerous men. And Batman was more than happy, to escape the nightmare for a bit._

_He would never leave Gotham to fate, but going to Arkham, a separate island from Gotham, relieved him. Normally, he would use his car, but now, he relied on his grapple gun, and his thick cape to get him to Arkham, to find the TYGER storage compartment. He had not mentioned to his daughter why he required the storage compartment. She only knew that it was important, and that he would go to great lengths for it._

"_We're almost there." Batman muttered, quietly reassuring Mysteria as they stood upon a light post, looking down at the Asylum. They had been gliding for almost twenty minutes, and the two were exhausted. _

"_I wish we could've carried the Batmobile with us when we left." She said with a chuckle. "You should get a Bat-bag to carry it."_

_He didn't chuckle, however. It sometimes astonished him how, even under the intense pressure of Gotham going to hell, Mysteria could stay so calm and even crack a joke or two. He was glad to have her at his side. She reminded him of working with Dick, back a long time ago. _

_They finally arrived at the Asylum, landing slowly in the middle of the pavilion area, right in front of the Intensive Treatment. Criminals like The Joker, Scarecrow, and Killer Croc would be kept there. It was where he would deliver the Joker to the police, after he had apprehended him. Things had changed. The Asylum looked like a hellhole now, almost as bad as Gotham. Guards could be seen, hung by the neck neat the lamp posts, as well as covered in blood and bruises, stuck under barbwire. The inmates of the Asylum had been busy. Honestly, he had not the slightest idea if any were even present. And yet he was ready. This was his home court. _

"_The Arkham Mansion. It has to be. Strange had a lair there. Crossed it one time on a prison breakout." He sighed, not bothering to remember any of it. "There's likely no one there. We can get in."_

_They made their way, running through the asylum, to the mansion. Batman busted the door open with a rough kick. Red wallpaper covered the wall all around the mansion. There were shelves all around, with countless books. No time to check one out. They continued to run, almost sprint, busting through walls and doors, finally at a narrow hallway. More shelves. More red wallpaper. No answers. _

"_Dad—I'm picking up heartbeats…" She started, but was quickly interrupted by her occupied father._

"_Fast? Slow?"_

_She nodded, a look of confusion as she did so. "Hard to tell. Dad, we should get what we need quick….." She looked downwards to the red floor, deep in thought. "What do we need…?"_

_He looked back at her, a bit puzzled by the question. "TYGER Storage Compartment."_

"_I know but…"_

"_Shh! Do you hear that..?"_

_The lights shut off immediately in just about every room. Small movements could be heard, being loud in the total silence. Eerie footsteps neared, and they were hard to identify. Oddly, Batman's detective vision refused to work as he constantly clicked the button on his cowl._

_A voice spoke up. "Oh Bruce… you haven't even told your daughter why you're really here."_

"_Who the hell is this?" Batman yelled back._

"_Don't play dumb, superhero. We don't like it." The voice replied._

_More footsteps could be heard. Doors opening, little sharp sounds cutting through the air… Then the yellow eyes…. First two, then four, then six, then two dozen. Looking at the two like zombies, staring blankly to the two nearly horrified vigilantes._

"_The Court of Owls has sentenced you two… TO DIE!"_


End file.
